


One More Bottle

by niigiirii



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drunkenness, Dry Humping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 13:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14955647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niigiirii/pseuds/niigiirii
Summary: Sanji built up a drinking tolerance after two years and Zoro isn't thrilled about it.





	One More Bottle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [otokoume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otokoume/gifts).



Zoro viewed himself simply. He was loyal to his Captain, always ready with his swords and could drink anyone under the table. He was especially proud of that last one. That’s why to see the annoying cook matching his drinking all night was pissing him off. When he began to drink his sake faster, he caught a knowing look from the blonde. Immediately an unspoken challenge commenced between them with Zoro setting the pace and the cook not showing any signs of slowing down.

After the Straw Hats reassembled after 2 years apart, their rubbery captain kept the battles, adventures and challenges coming at the crew nonstop. Tonight was a rare moment to recoup and meat was demanded. The request for meat turned into a full on feast with music, laughs and drinks till everyone had their fill.

The swordsman kept an eye on the cook all night who continued about doing his duties as the ship’s tidiest crew member: gathering dirty plates, taking food requests and making sure everyone’s cups were always topped off—especially Zoro’s.

Sitting on the deck of the Sunny, Zoro stared out at an open ocean that stretched for miles in every direction. Everything was painted blue under the exceptionally large moon, hangin high up in the night sky. The ship rhythmically creaked against calm, shimmering waves. The party finally died down and now only small snores could be heard among it’s passed out crew members.

This would be a nice time to reflect, but instead various thoughts of the cook interrupted his tranquil moment alone. This was a recurring problem for the swordsman, now lately more than ever, and it was causing him a lot of aggravation. The increase in appearances the blonde made on his mind was of growing concern, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of the shit-cook fast enough. The more he tried to ignore the problem, the worse it got.

The sound of footsteps turned Zoro’s attention from the vast ocean to the suited blonde, now sauntering over in his direction. In one smooth movement, Sanji scooped up the last bottle that stood in his path then tossed his head up to get his hair out of his eye as he zeroed in at his target. Zoro studied him as he approached and was concerned to see him looking sober as ever.

The cook crouched down and began to pour the sake. With practiced reflex, Zoro extended his arm to catch the small stream in his cup. Zoro studied Sanji’s every movement, watching his solid, unwavering hold on the bottle as he topped him off and then filled his own cup. The cook shook the bottle upside-down for dramatic flair to indicate the official last drop of the night had fallen. He looked up at zoro with a wide grin.

Zoro raised an eyebrow and reluctantly clinked his cup with Sanji’s. They whipped their heads back in unison and shot their glasses in one gulp. Zoro wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still eyeing Sanji suspiciously.

Sanji finally spoke “I think that’s the last of it” he stated as he made to stand up. Zoro followed suit and stood up with him. Standing, Zoro finally felt a bit of a buzz but after 8 bottles of sake between the both of them, that would make any normal human pass out.

Zoro couldn’t stand seeing Sanji walk around normally after all that sake. He used to enjoy seeing the cook get tipsy off 2 whiskeys, seeing him make an idiot of himself. Pink cheeks, rambling words, his perfect prissy suits turning disheveled. It was a form of entertainment he secretly looked forward to.

But now, here was the stupid cook standing upright and grinning—a very specific grin—one he used to see often after they came to a draw during their many ship-destroying fights.

“Were you drinking water all night or something? Why are you still standing?” Zoro scowled. When the hell did Sanji man up and build a tolerance to alcohol that could rival his own? This wasn’t fun at all. Sanji’s face dropped and turned to irritation immediately—another look Zoro was well acquainted with.

“We’ve been drinking out of the same bottles all night, marimo. I know you hate it, but you just can’t out drink me anymore. I’ve built up a tolerance you wouldn’t believe on that shit okama island.” Sanji turned and shrugged, it appeared to be another draw.

“One more bottle” Zoro insisted. He will win this one, he always does.

Sanji turned back towards him, another variety of annoyance exaggerated on his face. “You really can’t stand it can you? I beat you, deal with it!”

“You didn’t BEAT me!” Zoro fumed at the words. “I’m still standing!”

Sanji rolled his eyes and shifted his weight, showcasing his wide range of exasperated expressions. “So whoever ends up on the ground first is the loser? Is that how this works in your moss-covered brain?”

That sounded about right. Zoro pushed forward towards the galley with a grunt that could be interpreted as a reply and dragged Sanji by the arm behind him.

“Ow! Hey! Easy! Fine ok, one more bottle! If we can even find one...” Sanji stumbled behind Zoro, locked in his determined grip.

Zoro pushed the door open to the galley and left Sanji with the task of finding the final bottle to end this. He pulled himself a seat at the familiar long wooden table where the crew usually ate all their meals.

Sanji made no immediate move into the kitchen as he leisurely pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips for safe keeping. Zoro impatiently looked over his shoulder wondering what was taking the stupid cook so long, as he anxiously awaited to settle this drinking contest once and for all.

Sanji didn’t bother turning on the lights, as the moon was bright enough to coat the galley with a nice hue, their eyes already adjusted to the atmosphere from being outside.

Zoro could hear the idiot cook clanging some glasses together and muttering something from the other side of the counter. Finally the cook emerged from the kitchen with two small glasses and a green, medium-sized glass bottle with no label. sanji took a chair from the head of the table, scooting it closer to the corner across from Zoro.

“Finally”, Zoro muttered, watching the blonde pull the cork from the bottle with a loud pop. Sanji took a whiff of the contents and furrowed his brow, Zoro couldn’t help but mirror the expression across from him.

“What is it? Brandy?” Zoro scrunched his nose and squinted at the dark liquid sloshing around in the unassuming bottle.

Sanji shrugged and poured their glasses. “As I said before—“ Sanji took a beat to glance up at Zoro to make his point again “—We already drank all the Sake. All I could find was this hidden in the back of one of the lower cabinets. I’m not sure where it came from but from the smell of it, this will definitely be our last bottle tonight.”

Zoro grinned at the sound of that. Damn straight. Zoro picked up his glass “You’re going down, shit cook” and they clinked their glasses for the 60th time that evening.

Sanji took out his unlit cigarette and they both knocked their heads back and took the dark liquid in one shot. It hit the back of zoro’s throat like a hot fire iron and tore down his throat, making him feel warm and prickly all over. Zoro didn’t realize he had shut his eyes and opened in time to see Sanji making a contorted face, his body tense. Sanji unclenched his fists on the table and exhaled “whew that is some nasty shit.”

“Tastes good to me” Zoro goaded, feeling prematurely triumphant after one shot, his confidence returning.

Sanji rolled his eyes and fidgeted with his cigarette between his fingers “Tch. Yeah, you could drink gasoline and think it tasted fine. I wonder if you have any taste buds at all sometimes” Sanji leaned back and lit up his cigarette.

“Having no tastes buds is the only way I can get your food down.” Zoro playfully snapped back. He loved their back and forth insults, it really revved him up. He leaned forward, an eager grinpulling at his lips “What happened those past two years, you forget how to cook?” Zoro knew this was a button to press on Sanji, and waited expectantly for his knee-jerk reaction.

However, it didn’t come. The Sanji he knew before would have shouted and jumped up in his face, but this Sanji sitting before him… just blew out a long puff of smoke as if he didn’t hear him at all.

Zoro could feel his face fall in disappointment as the tension dropped and the flow of insults halted. They should’ve been full on fighting by now, a leg up by Zoro’s head.

Sanji sat up, leaning forward on the table, resting on an elbow while grabbing the bottle and pouring another two glasses. “My cooking is still better than your shitty sword fighting skills.”

Zoro let out a small scoff and felt himself relax. Not a great comeback, but a comeback nonetheless. It still threw him off that he came back so slow. Was their usual rhythm off now after 2 years? Maybe the alcohol was finally catching up to the shit cook. It was getting pretty late, too.

Another clink, drink and slam of glasses on the table. The second time didn’t burn as much as the first. Sanji still looked like he was having trouble swallowing the unidentified liquid, but continued to hold his ground. Zoro kept an eye on him to see if the alcohol was taking effect, and felt the cook avoiding eye contact under his gaze. He continued to study the curly brow, watching him take another slow drag of his cigarette while loosening his tie and the top 2 buttons of his shirt with his free hand.

The drink was making Zoro feel really relaxed. He leaned back and took in Sanji leaning back on the chair across from him. He felt like he was really seeing Sanji for the first time since those 2 years apart, noticing how his suits were fitting tighter, his neck thicker, his jaw sharper. The air around him was less frantic, cooler, calmer. He matured in many ways, but also he was still the same. The same chain-smoking, woman-worshipping, idiot cook.

Before he could filter what he was thinking, he began to speak aloud “I’ve been thinking… how the hell does your skinny ass keep up with me?” he was equally surprised by his words as Sanji was, looking up at him.

Sanji returned his gaze to the middle of the table for a thoughtful moment as Zoro tried to figure out how that came tumbling out of his mouth. Sanji leaned forward, considering the words that were just spewed at him and took another drag of his cigarette. He carefully moved to take up the small bottle, now halfway empty, and poured another two cups. his movements were slow and precise. He set the bottle down, looked up at zoro and smirked.

“You’ve been thinking …about my ass?” Sanji teased in an octave deeper than his usual voice, cocking a curly eyebrow.

Zoro suddenly felt his cheeks warm and it wasn’t from the alcohol. He was glad the lights weren’t on, or Sanji would never let him live down the fact he made the great Pirate Hunter Zoro blush from talking about his ass.

Sanji’s smirk stretched wider, knowing he caught him off guard and now the ball was in his court. Zoro hated being on the defense. “That’s not what I—!! No!!” He grabbed his full cup and quickly clanged it against the one sitting on the table and gulped it back in a hurry. He had to make himself stop talking and buy some time to try of think of something better than stuttering and blushing as a comeback.

Ok so it’s been 2 years, maybe their snappy routine has shifted, maybe they fell out of flow. Or maybe sanji got smarter and sassier being around drag queens for 2 years. Damn erocook.

“Pervert” Zoro mumbled.

Sanji chuckled and held up his cup “Hey, you’re the one thinking about my ass over there, ero-marimo” he joined in knocking back a third round of the harsh liquor, wiping his own smug look off his face with the horrible mystery liquid.

“Hmph. Your old reactions were funnier. This cool cook act is boring.” Zoro crossed his arms, almost pouting. Normally he would never elude to purposefully egging on the cook, or express any verbal confirmation in his scheming, but now his words were fumbling from his mouth before they crossed his mind. His ears were hearing the first of these thoughts before his conscious could approve or deny the action of releasing the thought through the sound hole, as per regular human procedure. Both Sanji and Zoro were simultaneously reacting to hearing his unfiltered thoughts.

Zoro closed his eyes. _Is this what it’s like to be drunk?_

A jarring movement sprung Zoro’s eye open, bringing him back to the present moment with Sanji standing over him, their faces just inches apart. Sanji had kicked the leg of his chair turning him to face outward from the table, giving Sanji space to invade. One hand in his pocket, the other leaning on the table beside Zoro, his hair falling in his face and his big blue eye looking devilish.

“Oh? You like riling me up? You like it when I get all pissed off, raising my heel to your head, getting in your face?” Sanji taunted at Zoro in an unusually smooth voice he’d never heard before. The cook ground his jaw, crushing a new, unlit cigarette between his teeth. The light pouring in from the moon really lit up Sanji's visible eye, making it appear to sparkle just like the night ocean.

“…like…this…?” Sanji threatened mischievously, slowly inching his face closer. Sanji’s signature scent surrounded him, a unique blend of smoke, spices and clean shampoo. A new addition was sake. They never had a problem being in each other faces before, as long as there was yelling. but now Sanji was whispering with that raspy smoke ladened baritone voice, giving Zoro some unexpected chills. He hoped the panic he was feeling wasn’t showing on his face, but a subconscious gulp might’ve given him away.

It was new territory to be locked in a silent standstill with the cook—but Zoro never backs down from a challenge, so if this was a staring contest between the two of them, he would hold his ground. The two held motionless for an eternity (or maybe it was just a moment) until Zoro noticed a subtle shift in Sanji’s expression. He watched Sanji’s eye as it searched his face, softening slightly.

“When did you get freckles?” Sanji said with a quiet curiosity, studying the swordsman’s face seriously. Zoro felt a burning down his body he wished he could blame on the alcohol, pooling in his groin. That look. Coupled with his scent, voice and proximity… it was suffocating.

Thankfully Sanji stepped back and Zoro exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. But he had no time to relax, as he saw Sanji’s eyes flicker down to his chest. Zoro found himself seriously worrying that Sanji could see through him to his heart beating against his ribcage. What was Sanji doing to him? This was not the type of fighting he was used to. This was completely unfair. Somehow.

Sanji broke his thoughts by gently touching the collar of his white henley shirt. “You have a stain here”, he said flatly, standing up straight.

Zoro had no time to process what the cook said as he reached for the bottom of his shirt and halfheartedly tugged at it “take it off”.

Never once has the words ‘a modest man’ been used to describe zoro, but in that moment he impulsively pulled his shirt down. “What are you doing??” He exclaimed a bit more frantic sounding than he would’ve liked.

“What are YOU doing?” Sanji blinked at him like he was crazy. The cook ignored the swordsman’s sudden shy act and tugged again at the shirt “C’mon it’s going to stain unless we clean it right now. I have some baking soda, let’s go” Sanji nodded towards the sink.

Figuring it would appear weirder if he persisted on arguing with the cook, he sighed and stood to follow Sanji to the kitchen. Not forgetting the main focus at hand, Zoro turned back and grabbed the half empty liquor bottle from the table.

As he turned back to reluctantly follow the blonde, his eyes landed on the slinking hips ahead of him. He cursed himself for checking out his ass. What the hell was wrong with him tonight? Had he finally reached his alcohol limit? Is this what happens when he’s had too much too drink? He acts like a flustered school boy? Over THIS GUY? Zoro also took a moment to thank his brain for not saying anything incriminating out loud in that moment, as it has been screwing him over all night for some inexplicable reason.

An impatient outstretched arm awaited the arrival of Zoro’s stained shirt. Zoro took his time and gently placed the glass bottle down on the counter between them. Sanji made his petty annoyance with Zoro’s lackadaisical speed known with a sharp huff. The Swordsman proceeded to wordlessly peel the dirty shirt slowly over his head and passed it off to the cook. Even doing small gestures to annoy this guy was satisfying for some reason. If only he could concentrate on not talking, maybe nothing worse could possibly slip out from his damn betraying mouth tonight.

Sanji irritably snatched the shirt and glanced unabashedly at Zoro’s bare torso. Sanji’s gaze returned a warm sensation to Zoro’s cheeks for a second time that night. He turned his face towards the floor and crossed his arms in a meek attempt to hide his muscular, scarred chest. Sanji turned to the sink and proceeded to save the swordsman’s signature shirt.

Zoro leaned back against the counter, watching sanji swiftly and attentively take to the offending stain with a remover and water. The way he worked his fingers was hypnotizing. They were so fluid but precise. Zoro found a sudden fascination with the cook’s hands, maybe because he kept them hidden away in his pockets most of the time. He began to wonder what it would be like to have those fluid and precise hands working up and down his body…. shit. He immediately tried to shake the thought from his head. More of this again. Fuck, this alcohol was strong.

Sanji finished removing the spot and held up the shirt, pleased with his work. He turned to show Zoro the vanished stain. “There. Now no one will know the world’s greatest swordsman is actually a careless slob.” Sanji smiled, tossing and hooking the shirt around Zoro’s neck to lay draped on his shoulders, but his hands lingered at the ends of the shirt, holding them in a close standstill together.

Wait. Did the shit-cook just smile at him? It still felt strange to be standing this close without shouting or being blinded by rage, but he found the familiar adrenaline was still bubbling beneath his skin. The amount of times Zoro felt his heart skip a beat in one night because of this ero-cook had become urgently disconcerting.

The moon was especially bright by the windows, bouncing off of Sanji’s glowing, shiny hair. The blonde seemed to be lost in thought, preoccupied with intently studying the ends of the shirt fabric he had wrapped around Zoro’s neck. It was maybe the first time Zoro had been this close to Sanji with a relaxed look on his face. It just made him tense up even more, unsure of what to expect. He was used to assuming the cook was planning his next attack, but tonight was proving to be unpredictable.

Words were beginning to bubble up and make their way out of Zoro again, “You’re…” he gulped and caught the words regurgitating in his throat _looking really nice in this light./Your eye is so blue. /Your hair looks so soft._ These are the thoughts Zoro forcibly swallowed down, swimming in his brain. Sanji looked at him, puzzled, watching him struggle to finish the awkward sentence he started. Their bodies were so close he could feel Sanji’s body heat emanating through his shirt onto his bare torso.

“...Standing really close.” Zoro finally managed. Good one.

But Sanji didn’t budge. “I thought... you liked it when I was in your face” he said with that commanding yet smooth voice again. Zoro wouldn’t mind hearing that one more often.

“Why would I want... your stupid face... in my face” This was the best insult he could muster, lacking any sort of believable malice. His concentration was thrown off in the confusion of why his heart seemed to be racing.

“Why’ya always tryin to piss me off” Sanji griped, his speech now weighted with alcohol, revealing his true state.

“...To ...get your attention” Zoro slowly revealed, to himself and to Sanji. He found he didn’t disagree with it.

A flash of varied emotions quickly crossed Sanji’s face but Zoro couldn’t catch any of them. After a beat, Sanji let go of the shirt around Zoro’s neck and cast his eyes towards the forgotten bottle on the counter. “...You always have my attention. Stupid marimo”.

“What’re you talkin about” Zoro furrowed his eyebrows, still not getting it.

“You seriously have a thick skull.” Sanji shook his head and Zoro thought he saw a small smile peeking out from the curtain of blonde hair he was hiding behind. Despite Zoro’s thick headedness, he still had a sense. The insults were back but there was a different electricity hanging in the air between them now.

“Tch. You’re annoying. And you’re drunk.” Zoro grumbled, feeling frustrated with their inability to communicate normally with each other.

“So are you.” Sanji scoffed, turning back to face him. The cook then let out a sharp sigh that prickled against Zoro’s skin.

“I’m standing I’m not drunk” Zoro stubbornly insisted with his Zoro-logic.

“Cows can sleep standing up it doesn’t prove you’re not drunk” Sanji regarded Zoro with an unimpressed eye. After a beat, Sanji suddenly reached for the bottle on the counter and knocked it back. A drop escaped from the corner of Sanji’s mouth, trickling down. Zoro stood hypnotized, his eye following the dark liquid as it travelled down Sanji’s pale neck while he downed the drink straight from the bottle.

There was no stopping the wild onslaught of perverted imagery coursing through Zoro’s imagination, he had no energy left to fight off the visions of the blonde swarming his brain. He wanted the cook, he didn’t care anymore about what it meant. He decided to let go of the wheel and enjoy the ride.

“Hurry up an’ finish this already” Sanji grimaced and shoved the bottle to Zoro’s chest.

Zoro gave a determined stare, as he grabbed the bottle from the blonde. He took a swig and gulped down the last of the horrid drink as if it was water, not breaking eyecontact.

“Make sure ta get every las’ drop, marimo” Sanji smiled smugly, taunting him with eyes half-lidded.

“Mm” Zoro agreed with Sanji, he wouldn’t miss a drop.

In one swift move, Zoro reached behind Sanji, yanking a fist of silken blonde hair back to crane his neck. The swordsman pulled the empty bottle away from his lips, and dove for the thin trail of dark liquid staining the cook’s perfect skin. Zoro felt the blonde’s neck vibrate with a soft moan under his lips as he began slowly dragging his powerful tongue upwards from the crook of his collarbone, following the trail up his long neck and giving a soft suck on his jaw before pulling away.

Zoro held him there, staring at the now glistening neck he just indulged in. Something swirled within him seeing Sanji in this position, submitting under his hold. As they stood in a standstill, Zoro anxiously awaited to see which way this would go. He wouldn’t mind getting a kick to the head right about now, maybe he needed it. He had to get rid of this pent up frustration with the cook either way.

Even under Zoro’s dominating grip, Sanji smirked and chuckled. Zoro watched mesmerized by his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

The cook cast his eyes down at the swordsman and licked his lips slowly. “Ya missed one.”

Zoro felt himself jerked by his neck, their lips crashing together like surf to shore during a perfect storm. The sly cook had gripped the shirt still hanging around his neck and pulled him across the final line. Behind Sanji, an empty glass bottle thudded to the floor, immediately forgotten. Zoro loosened his grip on the cook’s soft strands, letting himself melt into a powerful, burning kiss. Was it the alcohol emanating the heat or the cook’s lips? A tidal wave of tingling electricity surged through his entire body as his senses became overwhelmed with everything Sanji. A wet, sharp taste of the mystery liquid stung Zoro’s lips, mixed with the cook’s tobacco smoked scent.

Sanji huffed sharply outward, while Zoro breathed him in. The swordsman felt like he was drowning in the cook but at the same time, he was also the fresh air keeping him alive. Sanji responded to the swordsman with a soft hum. Zoro let go of Sanji’s silken hair, realizing he wasn't going anywhere and began to let his hand wander, exploring this new filled-in, rugged version of Sanji’s neck and chest. His other arm slid around the lean but powerful man’s waist, pulling him flush against him, tilting his head more to dive in for a deeper kiss. Sanji opened, letting a wanton moan roll over their slick, entangled tongues.

A shiver rolled down Zoro’s spine in reaction to the noises Sanji was making, coupled with the sensation of the cook’s fingers tracing up his back. Zoro had the impression he was in control until Sanji shifted his hips to slide a thigh between Zoro’s legs. He felt Sanji’s hip discover his rapidly growing hard-on and the blonde smirked against his kisses as Zoro couldn’t help but illicit a throaty growl. The cook’s cockiness pissed him off but also turned him on. The contradictory nature of their relationship is what kept him always coming back for more.

Zoro felt a shift, as Sanji began to navigate him without breaking the kiss, his immaculate hands scrambling all over the swordsman, dragging his nails, grabbing, massaging as much of his brawn body he could absorb. The cook was trying to steer him somewhere he couldn’t see. Being half-hard, drunk and walking backwards was not an easily navigable situation, especially when the swordsman couldn’t even walk straight in peak conditions.

Sanji stepped up towards the dining area, guiding Zoro, but with eyes closed, he tripped and fell backwards, pulling Sanji down with him. Only a grunt acknowledged the meeting of the swordsman's back to floor, their deep kisses broken only momentarily as frantic lips snapped back together, like powerful magnets.

Sanji moved to sit up and straddle Zoro, but their faces were unable to part. Choosing instead to forego air and inhale one another. Sanji moved quickly to unbutton his shirt as Zoro’s mouth scrambled to consume every new inch of the cook’s skin he could reach, desperately burrowing his face into Sanji’s neck, biting, licking and kissing everything that was revealed to him. Sanji couldn’t strip fast enough to satiate Zoro’s hunger for his pale flesh.

Impatiently, Zoro swiftly tore at Sanji’s shirt, the remaining buttons shoot off, saying goodbye with a clack and roll into the wood floor abyss, never to be seen again.

“You—!!” Sanji shouts angrily. Lunging from his half-open shirt, Sanji uses his free arm to grab Zoro’s jaw and forcibly kisses the panting swordsman back down to the floor.

Zoro is thrilled to feel Sanji’s hardness slowly rocking against his hip, as his kissing becomes more overpowering.

Sanji steadies himself on his elbow by Zoro’s head as he continues to kiss down his neck, slipping his other hand down between his legs to investigate Zoro’s current condition. Zoro closes his eyes and a gravelly moan resonates in his throat as Sanji’s meticulous hands rub the front of his straining pants. Nipping at his earlobe, Sanji whispers “Mine’s bigger” and Zoro can feel the cocky bastard smirking against his ear.

Zoro can’t help but smirk as well, entertained by this new rivalry they were in. Zoro reached down between them and returned the favor, grabbing Sanji’s hard bulge, feeling out his size as the cook responds with a delicious gasp.

“Mine’s thicker” Zoro grins, still catching his breath. Everything becomes a challenge with these two, as if they can only communicate within competition.

Sanji regains himself and chuckles while massaging the front of Zoro’s pants slowly, “Hmm, just like your skull” he purrs, teasingly.

“UGH, Fuck you shit-cook!! You need to communicate better!” Zoro snaps back, grinding his teeth. His patience with Sanji calling him dimwitted was finally at it’s limit.

The cook stills for a moment and takes note of Zoro’s barked demand, a sly smile at the corner of his lips. Sanji removed his warm hand from Zoro’s crotch, evoking a grunt from the visibly frustrated swordsman below him. Before he can complain some more, Sanji sits up on Zoro’s lap, rolling his hips and readjusting until he finds the perfect spot to mount Zoro’s bulge, fitting it perfectly under his tight pants wearing ass. He begins to rock his hips, grinding himself on Zoro in an devastatingly sensual rhythm, drawing out an unguarded moan from Zoro, who would totally be pissed off if he had any blood left to run any brain functions.

Sanji continued rolling and rocking his ass against Zoro’s painful hard-on, as he looked down at the swordsman, running his hands over his twitching abs and began to speak in a low voice in rhythm with his arousing tempo, “Zoro… I… want… your… thick… co~......ck” enunciating the “ck” with a half-lidded lust-filled stare and hard thrust of his hips. If that wasn’t clear enough for the swordsman than he really was an idiot.

Zoro could only respond with a few guttural noises, his mouth agape. Hearing his name seductively spilling over the ero-cooks lips had him stunned. While taking in this sensory overload, he ran his hands up Sanji’s thighs on either side of him and felt the muscles under cotton pants lifting and sitting, contracting and pumping. These long, incredibly strong limbs that Zoro has felt the power of before, being on the receiving end of his kicks many times. But never once felt under his hands this intimately, this slowly. The heat burning below his touch nearly made his palms sweat, but he didn’t want to let go.

Zoro slid his rough hands around to Sanji’s firm ass, kneading it and gripping it, cursing the fabric barrier between them. Sanji continue to gyrate but it wasn’t enough for Zoro, he wanted more contact, rougher, harder. The frenzied swordsman raised his knees and planted his boots on the hardwood floor, thrusting his hips up when Sanji ground down on him, surprising Sanji who reacted with an unreserved moan of his own. Being the reason to make Sanji’s voice cry out in such a lewd way plastered a smug grin on his flushed face.

Zoro was desperate to reach for his pants but he was too swept up in the flow he didn’t dare stop it for a moment, wanting to take in the view. Sanji riding him, concentrating, head down, mouth agape and eyes closed, rolling his hips methodically, hypnotizing. His eyes took in Sanji’s developed body, still lean but now filled-out, muscular and tout, his defined abs rippling as he rolled his hips back and forth, leaning his weight on top of the swordsman. Zoro craved more, the friction of clothing was making it insanely erotic but the dull stimulation was torture. It was a blissful drawn-out, dry-hump tease, driving him mad. Zoro continued to thrust his hips up when Sanji pressed his ass down, their speed increasing.

The moon working it’s magic again, enhanced Sanji’s euphorical glow in the night, reflecting on a thin sheen of sweat covering the cook’s neck and shoulder making his skin look like shiny porcelain. But Zoro knew he was anything but delicate.

Zoro felt himself getting close just from watching this vision before him. Sanji’s soft and dexterous hands exploring his scar, his abs, touching, rubbing, massaging, tracing every curve of every muscle on him as if the cook was sculpting him, or memorizing him.

“Fuck. You’re so fucking sexy, Sanji” was all he could say as he stared up at the erotic vision before him. Even in the dark Zoro could see this caught him off guard and made the blonde blush. Sanji snapped out of the moment to grind down harder as Zoro matched his hips, grinding upwards. “FUCK! …augh!… fuck” was all Sanji could muster under his ragged breath in return. Zoro watched Sanji’s body shake and twitch and he realized he, too, was getting close. Then Zoro saw the look on Sanji’s face––THE look––which meant Sanji was not going to lose this fight either. Another wordless competition commenced.

Sanji bit his lip and looked into Zoro’s eye, his voice resonating low, slow and impossibly sexy. “Fuck… ahh…” he turned up the charm, the sex appeal. He tried to continue confidently but Zoro could feel Sanji shiver under his rough, calloused hands as he ran them up the front of his smooth, toned body.

“Fuck… Zoro… I want you. I want you so fucking bad. You have no idea… the things I’ve imagined you doing to me … Zoro ah…” Sanji was riling Zoro up, putting images in his head. Hearing his name again, those eyes, that voice, his ass, riding his dick, clothes half off, such an erotic face… Zoro was on the edge, He was about to lose.

His body tensed more as they kept up the tempo and their breaths became even quicker and more ragged, groans unrestrained. About admit loss by way of release, one last idea dawned on him in the moment. Zoro lifted his hips a bit higher to knock Sanji off balance, making him lurch forward into his waiting hand—incidentally making the cook lean all his weight into grinding his aching member into the swordsman’s large palm. The contact immediately made the blonde cry out. Zoro only caught a glimpse of Sanji coming completely undone, as his own orgasm concurrently surged through his overwhelmingly hot body, a flash of white exploding before his closed eyes. He felt the sensation of the cook’s whole body tense up and convulse above him as he released at the same time.

Fuck… another draw.

Zoro replayed the split-second image of Sanji over and over in his mind, burning it to memory, sketching it onto the backs of his eyelids. Sanji throwing his head back, his messy blonde hair sticking to his forehead, his long neck, his ravaged shirt clinging around one arm. The feeling of Sanji’s member pulsating against his hand as the front of his pants became warm and wet. Now, the aftermath, the cook panting next to his ear as he came down, his breath slowed, his body splayed on top of his own, the sticky warm weight welcomed.

Zoro could feel Sanji’s racing heartbeat slow down and wondered if the cook could feel his too, which only seemed to be beating harder as the quiet moment stretched on. It felt like eternity. Although, maybe he wouldn’t have minded if they really did stay like this forever.

Sanji interrupts Zoro’s delirious dreaming by tilting his lips closer to Zoro’s ear and whispering “…but you hit the ground first”. Sanji nipped his ear and nuzzled a grin into his neck before his breath became shallow and soft.

Ah, that’s right... the drinking contest. Zoro relaxed and wrapped his arms around the sleeping body on top of him. He was alright with losing just this once.

~~

Sunlight came too soon, pouring over them where they laid. The morning light woke zoro up first but it wasn’t long before he heard the familiar sound of little hooves entering the kitchen. Panic struck through him as he laid still with Sanji still on top of him, behind the counter and out of immediate sight.

A little reindeer with a big hat picked up the glass bottle from the kitchen floor and wondered aloud “Oh here’s that bottle of truth serum I was looking for. I wonder how it got in here?”

The sound of the door closing signaled Sanji to lift his head and look down at Zoro, who had just caught the same information. The previous night replayed through Zoro’s hazy memory at rapid speed as they exchanged similar looks of mixed concerns.

終

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic out into the world, adding to the stack of carefully crafted One Piece Zosan stories.
> 
> This could not have happened without my roommate and fellow rotten girl, otokoume.  
> Once we both discovered that we each cherish the same OTP, we spiraled together into delightful insanity for one hazy month in the winter of 2017, exchanging fics and doujinshi. We shakily challenged each other to try our own hands at writing something to contribute to the fandom, and this was my result. 
> 
> I had to get my first pancake out there before I tried writing a bigger story. I hope I did justice for both the boys and I humbly present this short story of the strongest, hottest, angstiest, baka-couple any fandom has ever known. Zosan4ev.


End file.
